Chapter 7

seven

Nevaeh

Kane’s house is just outside of the city, tucked into a lush woodsy landscape that is, without a doubt, tended by a professional landscaper.

When Kane pulls into the private drive, and I see flowers spilling from pots, I know for sure I’ve pegged the man wrong. I’d thought he’d live in the city, in a condo that aimed to touch the sky, surrounded by nightlife.

He doesn’t. Clearly, this is no condo. It also doesn’t touch the sky. It blends into it. Straight off the cliff that looks down onto a stretch of blue sea.

I can’t see the sea from here. But I know it’s there over that cliff. I know because I was born and raised in L.A. and I know that this part, this land—it’s killer expensive. It’s expensive because of its seclusion.

So, maybe the man didn’t lie when he said he had money. But I’m not sure he has enough to defeat the political power that is my ex-fiancé.

Kane kills the engine and opens the door to his blacked-out, black-on-black Escalade, rounding the front to my side with quick, long strides.

Antonio always opened the door for me. I’d always thought it was more because he believed society expected such acts from him. But when Kane does it out here in the boonies, far from the watchful eyes of society and their expectations, I know he does it because he’s the kind of man who wants to.

Apparently, chivalry isn’t dead. It can’t be if a man as dark and hard, all rough edges and jagged lines, and frosted eyes full of dark promises is in possession of it.

But that’s where the similarity between the two men end. Because Antonio never would have done what Kane does next. He never would have leaned into the truck, unbuckling my belt with those big hands before they fell against my hips to pull me gently from the seat. Antonio wouldn’t have done that—wouldn’t have even thought to do such a thing—not even if he possessed the capability, which he doesn’t.

At the feel of his hands on my body, my heart leaps.

I don’t want to be this affected by this man.

I’m seven weeks out of an engagement. I’d been with Antonio for two years. Before Antonio, I’d had three serious boyfriends. I’m not the kind of girl that feels flutters and falls into beds.

I take my time to get to know a man, but this man—he’s the kind of man I’ve always been wary of.

I’ve always held myself apart from men like Kane, because he’s the kind of man that could make me the kind of woman that wants to fall into beds. That wants to give into the flutter of my heart, that yearns to feel the freedom of his touch.

But again, I’m seven weeks post broken engagement. I have no business thinking of a man. Any man.

Considering the crap I went through last night, I’m not physically capable of being with a man. Especially not a man like Kane, who I imagine could thoroughly ruin me in bed.

“You good?” He steadies me with big hands on my hips. Hands that feel good there. Too good.

Hells bells.

I nod, bobbing my head quickly. Too quickly. A little nervously, if I’m being honest.

I’m alone out here with him, far enough from civilization that I can’t imagine, if I screamed, anyone would come.

I’ve just been attacked by a man sent with specific instructions to hurt me—by my fiancé—my ex-fiancé.

I shouldn’t be so stupid as to put myself in the wilderness with a man I don’t know. A man very clearly powerful enough to hurt me very badly. As if I haven’t been hurt enough already.

“I’m good.” I force the words through my sore throat.

We didn’t talk at all on the drive. I’d sensed him watching me, sensed the weight of his gaze. The concern. But I hadn’t had the strength to look away from the window, from the scenery that passed me by.

I hadn’t been able to look away, because if I did, if I looked at him, I’d have to face the fact that I have failed miserably in my adult life. I have failed so miserably that this is where I am, on the run from a man who should have loved me enough not to hurt me—with a man I don’t know. A man I’ve had two encounters with. Both times, I can’t say I’ve painted myself, or my life decisions, in a stellar light.

I don’t know this man from Adam. I don’t know his last name or what he does for work. I don’t have his address or his phone number.

Nobody knows where I am.

Well, maybe Nurse Candy does. But I don’t know her. If things took a dangerous, terrible turn, I have to assume that she would take Kane’s side. That she would protect him.

It makes sense. That’s what I would have expected Kate to do—before I caught her on her knees, choking on my fiancé’s dick.

Sour sick turns in my empty belly. I must pale visibly because Kane sways back a bit, brows drawing low.

“Hey,” he croons gently, which is so at odds with the usually rough rumble of his deep voice, I almost laugh. “What’s going on in there?”

I swallow the sick, shaking my head. “Nothing. Just—thinking.”

“About what?”

I can’t help it when my eyes lift to his. It’s involuntary. As though I’m fulfilling a deep need that’s always lived inside me. Looking into those glacier blues just feels right.

But because I can’t tell him I’d been thinking of my best friend—my soul-sister—sucking off my ex-fiancé while he’d been my fiancé, I tell him, “I feel foolish.”

“Why?” He searches my face, and I shift. The way this man looks at me is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. As though he can see through my clothes and skin to the making of me deep beneath. The ticking of my heart. The glimmer of my soul.

He strips me to the bone without ever lifting the blade to flay me.

“I was just attacked—brutally—” I try not to note the way his eyes darken. The way the muscles under his flesh coil. He’s a beast ready to pounce. To destroy. To shred. “He was my fiancé, Kane. He was supposed to love me and he—he paid someone to hurt me.” His eyes close slowly, because he’s been trying to get these details from me since the moment he first saw me there in the hospital room. “He paid a man to hurt me, Kane.” I feel wet stinging behind my eyes as I give him all I can give him. “That man broke into my apartment in the middle of the night. I woke to him on top of me⁠—”

“Sunshine,” there’s a break to his voice that rattles me. When he opens his eyes, I think I see a crack in the foundation of the cage that restrains his monster. Foolishly—so foolishly—I’m not afraid at all. “You said he didn’t—fuck⁠—”

I’m confused. “I said he didn’t, what?”

“You—” He takes a small step back from me. His hands clench into tight fists. He sucks breath in through his nose. “You denied the rape kit.”

Understanding dawns. “He didn’t—didn’t do that.”

“You said you woke up to him⁠—”

I cut him off. “He was on me. I thought it was sleep paralysis at first. Sometimes that happens to me, so I thought…” I shake my head, hating that I’m forced to relive it in my mind just to relay it to him. “Anyway, he was there, over me. On me. I couldn’t breathe. It took me a bit to pull myself from sleep enough to realize it wasn’t sleep paralysis, but a man. And his hands were around my throat, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t breathe!”

I don’t realize I’m panicking until he gathers me into his arms, against his chest. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay, Sunshine. I don’t need to know. Not now. You’re okay.”

“I’m so sorry.” I don’t know why I’m apologizing. I only know that I’m sorry. I’m so, so incredibly sorry.

Kane laughs an incredulous sound, and then I feel his voice in his chest as he assures, “You’re safe with me.”