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“Killian.”
His grip turned into a soothing stroke, his fingers curling in until he was tracing a line down my crack.
“Daisy.”
He was so gentle like this, all sleepy with his hair messy and his soft white t-shirt warm under my touch. I hadn’t even realized my hands were braced on his bicep for support.
“I need to get up.”
He made a sound, his eyes still closed as he held on to me.
“No, we need to have a conversation about why the fuck you’re here instead of the apartment.”
I wouldn’t allow myself to hope he still wanted me there.
“I don’t?—”
A knock came from the door and Giles pushed in with his head down.
“Prez, I need to talk to you.”
Killian made some kind of annoyed growling sound from under me, and then he twisted, pulling me back down to the bed while lifting on his elbow.
“What?”
Giles lifted his head, still hanging by the door. “Members want to go to Death Raiders club and make an example out of them for just showing up here.”
Killian groaned, his hand still on my ass while I laid next to him.
“Tell them I’m taking care of it, but no one else rides.”
My head snapped over, taking in Killian’s face. His eyes were finally fluttering open, his green stare on the ceiling as the hand under me continued to stroke gently. My mind threw images from those folders at me. How many of those atrocities was he a part of? How many more would there be once there was new space in those file cabinets?
“I can tell them, but they haven’t seen you since you took off last night. You came straight down here. They need to?—”
I chose that moment to take my leave. Whatever was going on was not my business, and I really didn’t need any more images in my head to haunt me at night.
Killian moved too, now sitting up, his head cradled in his hands.
I shoved down what it did to me to see him like that, exhausted from a night spent curled up on a twin bed with me. He had that new huge bed back in his apartment and he’d chosen to stay with me. Not only that but his men had to have been foaming at the mouth last night, desperate for an encouraging word from their president, but he’d come down here instead.
This wasn’t good. Killian’s focus was supposed to be the club, not me.
I grabbed my things and darted for the bathroom around the corner. Locking myself inside, I took out my contacts, showered, and then got dressed. Wearing blue jeans and a cropped sweater, I left my hair wet, laying against my back.
Checking the mirror, I winced at my reflection. My face was pale, and my eyes were puffy. Letting out a sigh, I crouched to the ground to dig through my duffel and pulled my cosmetic bag free. After doing a whole skin regiment and swiping some mascara onto my lashes, I felt better. Then I braided a piece of my hair, small and right at my hairline, letting it hang free while my ends began to curl. It was the most natural I’d been since arriving, and it felt good.
Finally done, I pulled open the door, only to stop short.
“Daisy.” Killian bracketed the doorframe with his long arms, his intense stare fixated on me, taking in every detail of my appearance. When his eyes tracked the tiny braid, a small smile lifted his lips.
I tried to push past him, but he wouldn’t move.
“Excuse me.”
His fingers went to my neck, tipping my head back while he brought his body flush with mine. “We need to talk about last night.”
“We don’t.” Because really there was nothing left to be said. I pushed at him again, but his hand tightened around my neck, possessively.
